The Magica Solution: Now With Feelings
by AsLostAsAliceAsMadAsTheHatter
Summary: "You're an idiot, Scrooge McDuck, but at least now I know you're my idiot." Or: Tasked with convincing sick Scrooge to rest, Magica confesses her feelings and he, unexpectedly, confesses his right back.


**AN: A few important things: this is an AU universe, a combo of comics, the '87 show, and the reboot. My Magica is always a combination of comics and '87, heavy on the comics, where her character development and other motivations are seen. I imagine Calisota to be somewhere in the vicinity of California, and Duckburg roughly where San Francisco is based on the bay, making Naples 9 hours ahead of Duckburg time-wise.**

**This is based on the episodes "Scroogerello" and "The 87 Cent Solution".**

Magica watched the stubborn old fool from outside his office window, safely out of sight from the security systems and the naked eye. Not that it seemed to matter, as Scrooge could barely focus on the paperwork in front of him, let alone any outside distractions. She shook her head, not surprised in the slightest, wincing as the sound of harsh coughs floated up to her. The idiot, he was too stubborn for his own good. What was she going to do with him?

* * *

"But Uncle Scrooge, you need rest!" Huey protested as Scrooge forcibly pushed past him to head to the bin.

"I'm fine! I have business reports to look over, stocks to trade, meetings to attend. A little cough and stuffy nose never stopped me before!"

He leaned heavily on his cane as said cough reared its head, the action causing him more pain than he'd care to admit. The kids winced, taking his distraction as an opportunity to try and corner him again.

"I dunno, Huey's probably right this time," Louie said, grabbing one arm.

"It does sound pretty bad," Dewey agreed, grabbing the other.

"And you've had that cough three days now!" Webby added as she and Huey began to push him back toward his bedroom.

"I said I'm fine!" Scrooge yelled, pushing them away and breaking free. "I have work to do, I cannae afford to be sitting around all day!"

"But-!"

"No buts! I'm going to the bin!"

They watched helplessly as he slammed the door, Launchpad revving the limo's engine seconds later.

"Well that didn't work," Dewey grumbled, plopping on the stairs.

"Did you really think it would?" Louie quipped, pulling out his phone. "The man's addicted to work, the only thing that distracts him is treasure."

"I'm not so sure about that," another voice piped up, drawing their attention.

Mrs. Beakley stepped out of the sitting room, duster in hand. She'd overheard the scuffle, the same one that had taken place the past few days, and she was growing tired of it. She was also concerned for her friend and employer, not that she'd readily admit to it. But she did know one final trick that the kids didn't.

"What do you mean, Granny?" Webby asked on behalf of the group.

"You kids are right that Mr. McDuck is far too stubborn to admit that he's ill, but luckily I know someone equally as stubborn who has a soft spot for him."

"You don't mean Goldie do you?" Huey asked. "Because I'm pretty sure the only thing that would get her here is a nice fat stack of cash."

"No, not Goldie." Her eyes narrowed briefly before softening once more. "Believe it or not, there's someone else he cares for, who I have reason to believe returns those feelings." The kids looked at each other in bewilderment and she sighed, resisting the urge to rub a hand across her face in exasperation. "Magica. Magica De Spell."

Immediately there were squawks of protest and disbelief, four voices rising and yelling over each other to be heard.

"Now quiet down! You kids haven't known them as long as I have, or seen the way they interact when not at each other's throats." They fell silent, obviously still in denial but willing to listen. "You've seen some of the instances they've teamed up in the past, did they seem to hate each other then?"

"Well, no, but—" Dewey started.

"And she even celebrated Christmas with us a few years ago, do you remember? Wasn't that a happy time? I believe she also entertained you with a few magic tricks and stories did she not?"

"Well yeah, but—" Huey tried, but was also interrupted.

"And haven't their interactions as of late been a lot less explosive than usual?"

"Yeah?" Louie agreed skeptically, sharing a confused glance with his brothers.

"Granny," Webby said, eyebrows furrowed, "you're not trying to say that Uncle Scrooge _likes_ Magica are you?"

Mrs. Beakley just arched an eyebrow in reply.

"Aw gross! Old people romance!" Dewey yelled.

"It would make sense," Huey said thoughtfully, calling up his memories of his uncle and the witch. "He always was really easy on her when he caught her. Never put her in jail or anything."

"And she always calls him 'Scroogey darling'," Webby added.

"You don't think?" Huey asked, realization crashing over him.

"Uh, what? I'm kinda lost guys," Louie said.

"That Uncle Scrooge has a crush on Magica and she has one on him? I totally do."

"Again, gross," Dewey said.

"That's….you know what? It's fine. Not the weirdest thing to happen to us," Webby said with a shrug.

"As long as she doesn't make him write us out of the will I'm cool with it," Louie said.

Mrs. Beakley fought the urge to laugh as the kids finally figured out what had been going on around them for years. She had seen the subtle flirting for what it was ages ago, and perhaps now that literally everyone around them knew they'd admit their feelings. She cleared her throat, getting their attention once more.

"So, are you saying we call Magica and convince her to get Uncle Scrooge to rest?" Huey asked.

"Exactly."

"But how do you know she'll actually agree?" Webby asked.

"Oh she will. Like I said, I've known them far longer than you have."

….

Scrooge sniffled miserably and tried to focus on the report sitting in front of him. The words seemed to blur and the letters swim together, to the point that he wasn't even sure exactly which of his businesses he was attempting to read about. He groaned, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. He'd never admit it to anyone, but he knew his family was right. He should have stayed home, slept off whatever it was he had, and let go of his pride for once.

But he was Scrooge McDuck, tougher than the toughies and smarter than the smarties, he couldn't just go crawling into bed for a simple cold. Although this was a tad worse than a simple cold, but again, his pride wouldn't let him admit that. He sneezed, and reached blindly for the box of tissues on his desk, growling when he realized he'd used them all. He sniffled again, forcing himself to face the report. '_Just this one and then I'll take a dip in the bin,' _he told himself, glaring at the letters.

Slowly they came into focus, and he realized it was the expenditure report for his copper mines. Well, that was progress at least. He'd just begun to look over the figures when his throat began to itch. He attempted to clear it, trying to hold off the fit he knew was coming, at least long enough to find out why fuel costs had increased over the past month. Halfway into the paragraph explaining the increase he lost the battle, harsh coughs forcing their way from his chest. He gasped a little as he finished, his throat raw and throbbing. Sighing heavily, he began to wish in earnest that he'd stayed home.

* * *

She waited until he'd stopped coughing to fly silently into his office, landing behind him. From there she could hear how labored his breathing was, and her worry went up a notch.

"Must you be so stubborn?" she asked casually, banishing all emotion from her tone as she rounded the desk.

He jumped, obviously taken aback, and she couldn't help the grin that came to her beak. In just a few seconds he'd jumped up, readying for a fight, though she noticed it had taken him longer than it should have.

"Magica De Spell!" he attempted to yell, though it came out croaky and quieter than he'd intended. Something flashed in her eyes then, and if he didn't know better he'd say it was concern. "What do you want you wretch?"

Magica rolled her eyes, leaning a hip against his desk and confusing him further. He blinked, taking a closer look at her. No wand, no crazed look in her eye, she almost looked bored.

"Your housekeeper called me earlier this morning and told me you weren't feeling well," she said.

"Bah, it's nothing," he denied, though he did relax his posture.

"It didn't sound like nothing a few minutes ago."

"Just a cough."

Magica sighed, allowing herself to completely soften and show her true emotions. Now that she had discerned he wasn't going to throw her out on sight she saw no harm in it.

"You old fool, you're too stubborn for your own good."

Scrooge fully relaxed as she did, recognizing that this was going to be one of their friendlier encounters. He sat back down, though he was curious as to why she was there. She came closer so that she was able to stand beside him, and now he could see concern in her eyes.

"Stubbornness got me to the top," he answered, watching her closely. "Why are you here if not to steal the dime?"

Magica tensed, a light blush appearing on her beak. She wasn't about to admit it was worry that had brought her all the way from Italy without a second thought, and definitely wasn't going to tell him how she felt about him. She might have managed to fall in love over their years of fighting, but he didn't have to know that. He'd never return the feelings anyway, so why embarrass herself needlessly?

Scrooge knew there was something going on in her mind by her reaction to his question, but he couldn't quite grasp it. It couldn't be that she actually cared about him could it?

He sniffled again, feeling a sneeze coming on, just able to turn away from her before it erupted. He groaned into his arm, swiping his beak across his sleeve before turning back to face her. Her eyes were riveted on him, and it made him uncomfortable.

"Well?" he snapped, ignoring her wince at his tone and the guilt that accompanied it.

How he could be so persistent when he could barely focus she would never understand. But he wanted an answer, and it was obvious his patience was even thinner than normal. She'd have to tell him, even if it made her want to crawl into a hole from sheer embarrassment.

"Is it so hard to believe I was worried about you?" she snapped back, blush returning darker than before.

"A little, yes."

"Well it's true!"

He gawked at her, noting her averted gaze and unease. Maybe it was true, maybe she did care about him. His heart fluttered at the thought. While he'd fallen in love with her over the years, he'd always thought it was one-sided, that she cared only for the dime and nothing more. Maybe he was wrong.

"You...you care about me?" he asked dumbly.

Her head snapped up, shocked he hadn't realized she wasn't solely focused on the dime. Maybe she'd been too good at concealing her feelings.

"Well...yes. Did you think I hated you?"

"Don't you?"

"No."

The air around them shifted, growing thick with apprehension and shock and a thousand other emotions all in the span of a minute. Scrooge appeared to not know how to respond, staring at her, beak slightly agape.

She stepped closer still, until she could stare him in the eye. Shock and happiness glittered there, and something else as well. Hope perhaps? But why would her feelings matter so much unless….oh. Oh! No it couldn't be possible. But maybe?

She knew this was her chance, probably the only one she'd get, to confess her feelings to him. They so rarely had such an emotionally charged conversation, and the way he was looking at her made her want to be honest with him. It helped that she knew if he didn't love her in return he'd at least be a gentleman about it, would turn her down gently. She took a deep breath.

"I don't hate you, I don't think I ever truly did. Actually, I love the challenge you present, how you never give up, and find ways to push me to my limits." She ran her fingers through her hair, a nervous habit, and Scrooge found he couldn't look away. "I care about you deeply, and have done for quite some time now. In fact...I think...I think I might be in love with you," she whispered, averting her gaze.

Scrooge blinked, the only action he was capable of as his addled brain tried to process her words. She loved him? Didn't hate him? He hadn't expected this when she'd appeared in his office. His heart sped up, reminding him that she wasn't the only one with hidden feelings. She started speaking again, softly and with a melancholy tone, gaining his focus once more.

"I know you probably don't feel the same way, but you wanted to know what brought me here, and there it is. All I ask is that you don't laugh at me."

"Laugh? How can I laugh at you?" He reached over and grabbed her hand, and her eyes snapped to his face. "Magica, darlin', I never would have thought you cared about me at all, but if you're brave enough to admit it then so am I. I love you too."

"Y-you what? You can't be serious!" she stuttered, her turn to be baffled.

"Aye, I am. I just didn't think you'd ever feel the same or I'd have come out with it years ago."

Her eyes widened before softening, and he finally saw love reflected in the dark pools. She raised her other hand to card through his feathers, smiling softly.

"You're an idiot, Scrooge McDuck, but at least now I know you're my idiot."

He smiled, opening his beak to reply before his throat tightened, a coughing spell breaking the moment and reminding them both exactly why they were there. Magica frowned, stepping beside him to rub his back as he coughed. He groaned as the fit passed, tired of them and the pain that came with them.

"Beakley was right, you sound awful," Magica murmured, studying his face closely for the first time.

Dark bags were present under his eyes, which were an irritated pink, and his feathers were mussed and out of place. She frowned deeper, reaching up to feel his forehead and ignoring the weak swat he aimed at her.

"I cannae just miss work!" he protested, stubbornness back in full, though he settled at her annoyed look.

"You will if I have anything to say it about it. You're burning up, and that cough is awful."

"But I…" he sighed, deciding to just give in to the inevitable. He knew she understood, they were so alike he had no doubt she was the same. "You're right, I feel awful."

She hummed in acknowledgement, hiding her surprise at the admission, though it didn't stop her from voicing it.

"It's about time you admitted it, even if I never thought you would."

"Only with you," he murmured, squeezing the hand he realized he was still holding.

She gave him a gentle smile, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead. He grinned idiotically, and she snorted in amusement.

"Okay, now that we've gotten that settled let's get you home." She tugged him up, allowing him to lean against her. "I promised Beakley and the kids to have you back before too long."

"Wait, they know you're here?" he asked.

"I told you, she's the one who called me. Something about how a stubborn old man refused to rest and get better."

Scrooge grumbled, but he couldn't deny it either. Magica grinned, doubting she'd ever get tired of ruffling his feathers.

"Let me call Launchpad," he grumbled, pulling out his flip phone.

* * *

Launchpad hadn't said a word as Magica pulled Scrooge into the car, nor did he say anything when he glimpsed her lean into his side and gently begin to preen the crooked feathers of his whiskers. Even he had known something else was going on between them, and perhaps if Scrooge wasn't so miserable and Magica so focused they'd have been embarrassed by that. They were swept up into a flurry of motion as they entered the mansion, the kids grinning and sharing knowing looks, and she was pretty sure she saw some money change hands.

"Thank you for getting him back here," Beakley said, though there was a look in her eye that said she knew what had transpired too.

"Well someone has to remind him he isn't as young as he used to be," Magica quipped, smirking at him.

"You're no spring chicken yourself," he replied, though it held no bite.

Beakley snorted, an amused smile on her beak.

"Let's get you to bed, sir," she said, offering her hand.

As expected, he rapped her with his cane, and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not some invalid who needs constant help! I can get there myself!" he snapped, starting up the stairs, accompanied by the kids and their teasing.

The two women were left alone, and Magica found herself growing nervous. She'd caused nothing but trouble for his family, what if they didn't accept their relationship?

"Again, thank you for convincing him to leave the bin," Mrs. Beakley said, breaking her train of thought.

"Oh, it was nothing. He isn't so menacing as he thinks."

"True, and I suppose his feelings for you didn't hurt."

"So you know then," Magica said, tensing.

"Of course, you two weren't exactly subtle about it," the older woman replied, rolling her eyes. "I'm just glad you two finally admitted it to each other. And as you saw the kids are too, if for no other reason then to tease him about it."

"So, none of you are going to try to convince him it's a mistake?" she asked.

Mrs. Beakley looked offended.

"Ms. De Spell, rest assured that if I thought you were lying or had any ill intentions you would not be within fifty feet of this house." Her expression softened then, a genuine smile appearing. "That said, welcome to the family. God knows you're the only one able to handle the insanity."

Magica laughed, recognizing the truth of the statement. A series of thumps and thuds sounded from overhead, and they both looked to the ceiling.

"Do you think we should check on them?" she asked, worry obvious in her tone.

"You go ahead, he's awful to be around when he's sick. Besides, I'm sure if anyone can actually convince him to rest and take the medicine he no doubt just threw across the hall, it's you."

She headed off into the mansion, leaving the witch alone. Sighing, she decided she may as well head up to his room, it was certainly better than waiting for the children to ambush her and pester her with questions. Besides, she was uncomfortable being alone in his home, though she hoped that would soon change.

She had no issues finding his bedroom, as the shouts echoing from it were loud enough to wake the dead. She pushed open the door and ducked just in time for a pillow to soar over her head. Two of the boys had Scrooge on the bed, attempting to pin him down, while the third appeared to be filming the struggle on his phone, and the girl was off the side, uncertainly holding a small cup filled with dark purple liquid. Sighing, Magica stepped further into the room, ignored by the majority of its occupants, though the phone swung to face her. Calmly, she plucked the small cup out of the girl's hands, startling her, and gaining the attention from the other kids and Scrooge.

"You're acting like a child," she said with a raised eyebrow.

His eyes darted to the cup in her hand.

"I will nae take that poison!" he yelled, pushing the boys off him and crossing his arms.

"You will," she said calmly.

"Yeah good luck, it usually takes Beakley putting him in a headlock," the boy in blue muttered.

She gave him a smile.

"It won't come to that. You see," she said, stepping up and sitting beside him on the bed, "I have a little trick up my sleeve."

The kids tensed, expecting a spell of some sort. What they didn't expect, or Scrooge himself for that matter, was for her to lean over and kiss him. Scrooge's eyes went wide, too shocked to kiss back, and after a few seconds shouts of disgust rose in the air. She pulled back, grinning at him, and while he was still in a stupor she calmly pushed the cup to his beak and forced it into his mouth, holding his beak closed until he swallowed. She sat back calmly, satisfied he'd taken the medicine.

"Okay, that was gross. We're gonna leave now," the one in red said, beginning to usher the others out. "Tissues are on the nightstand, blankets in the closet, anything else just call Duckworth."

He waited until they had left and shut the door to speak.

"You should nae have done that," he said, though he risked snaking his arm around her waist.

She shrugged, curling into his side.

"How else was I going to get you to take it? You're quite a bit stronger than me."

"But you're going to catch my cold."

She shrugged again, unwilling to speak further. He sneezed, the motion jarring both of them, and she chuckled, pulling away and gently pushing him to lie down. She tucked him in lovingly, sitting the tissues on the bed close to him, and made to leave. He grabbed her wrist before she could, and she turned in confusion.

"Where are ya goin'?"

"I was planning on heading home, so you could rest," she answered.

"I'd rather you stay," he admitted, forcing himself not to look away in embarrassment.

She melted, giving him the softest smile he'd ever seen, before gently pulling her wrist away and reaching for the zipper on her dress. He did look away then, blushing, only looking back up when she slid into bed next to him. She kissed him again, unable to help it once she saw how adorably awkward he was.

"Relax," she said when they parted. "We're not doing anything except sleeping."

She glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside table, showing it to be just after one in the afternoon, making it after ten p.m. for her. She yawned, the day's events catching up to her, as well as the jet lag. Scrooge smiled at her, cupping her cheek.

"I forgot it's well into the night for you," he admitted, thumb brushing across her cheek.

"Not too late actually, but it turns out flying across an ocean and a continent at breakneck speeds tends to wear you out," she joked.

She laid down fully, cushioning her head on his chest to listen to his heartbeat. He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her closer, and settling down. Suddenly, a nap didn't sound so bad. Magica smiled into his feathers, pleased at the way the day had turned out. She'd rather he not be sick, but she wasn't going to wish away his feelings for her.

She could already feel the medicine working to combat the fever, his skin not as hot underneath her cheek as it was her hand earlier.

"Get some sleep yourself," she murmured. "You're still running a fever."

He pressed a kiss to her head in response, and before long she was sleeping peacefully, him not far behind.

* * *

"I told you so," Scrooge said a few days later, running his fingers through inky black hair.

"Shut up," Magica snapped, covering her mouth to sneeze.

He laughed, much to her irritation, and easily caught the fist she half-heartedly threw at him. Still smiling, he leaned down to kiss her forehead, admittedly feeling a tad guilty for passing his cold on to her. She was a mess, ruffled hair and feathers, and pale, but to him she was still an angel. She pouted as he sat back up, and gripped the edge of his jacket.

"Darlin', you know I need to get back to work," he murmured, stroking the back of her hand.

"I know, I know," she huffed, but didn't let go.

He frowned, she did look miserable, and he didn't truly want to leave her….

"Well, I suppose one more day," he said in a faux irritation.

Her eyes lit up as he slid back into bed beside her, pulling her to rest against him, arms securely wrapped around her. She snuggled closer, just a little smug, and sighed contentedly. He hummed, pressing a few kisses to the top of her head, and leaned back against the headboard. He knew he should really be at the bin, making sure nothing had gone askew in the past few days, but as Magica yawned and tried to wrap herself around him, her too-warm skin pressing against his, he found there was no where else he'd rather be.


End file.
